Zombieland: TFFS
by ODROverdrive
Summary: This story follows Philadelphia, and exhibits his rules of survival, and his adventures in the infamous Zombieland


**The following is a non profit, fan fiction interpretation. Zombieland is owned by Relativity Media, Columbia Pictures, Rhett Reese, and Paul Wernick. Please support the official release.**

Hello living earthlings. I am...Philadelphia... I don't want to reveal my real name... I wouldn't want to get too attached, and then croak. Although, I most likely wont croak. I live by rules that help me survive this hell. Top 5 are most important. This is Philadelphia Pennsylvania, and welcome, to Zombieland.

Chapter 1: New Zombieland

Rule #1: Cardio – You have to be strong of lung, heart, legs, and spirit. For obvious reasons, when the Zombieland came to be, the first to go were the asthmatics, and the fatties. And god forbid you were the poor, sad asthmatic fatty. Zombies are always active, because they have to chase their food, so you must be equally active.

Rule #2: Limber Up – For obvious reasons, pulling something running from a zombie is not a very bad. You fall, your fucked.

Rule #3: Pack to Survive – Most people would say back lightly, but you might not want to do that when faced with a zombie attack. If you follow one and two, then how much you pack shouldn't matter. Don't get me wrong, only necessities. Travel toothbrush, toothpaste, lotion, deodorant, hand sanitizer, baby wipes, food, water, and guns. Lots of guns, and ammo. Lots of ammo. Leading me to...

Rule #4: Double Tap – When being attacked by a zombie, don't be stingy with your bullets. Two shots can keep you from being zombie chow. And finally...

Rule #5 – Pay it Forward – Helping a survivor will earn you a lifetime connection, which means something in Zombieland. You never know when you might need the help of a survivor...

Well, now you know the 5 essentials. It's been a year since a contaminated burger at a gas station fucked with somebody's system, turning them into a blood thirsty psycho. Now...nearly the world is contaminated. I heard through the voices in the streets that there was a group going through Zombieland. They had survival rules too. Probably not better than mine, but I must meet them. They could be of great use to me in this world of hell on earth...

I stole a police motorcycle, back in West Philly. Not really a fan of the design, but hell, it gets me from point a to point b, and in quick time. I zoomed through the roads of Trenton, New Jersey, when I saw a girl, sitting in front of a campfire, with a rifle laid against her lawn chair, reading a book. I pulled up next to the fire, and got off my bike. "Hello Miss." She jolted up and picked up her gun. I raised my hands in submission. "I come in peace... I just wanted to know why you were near the side of the rode, in front of a campfire..." She put down her gun. "The wider the space, the less likely a zombie can come up and surprise me." I held out my hand to her. "Philadelphia. I don't use my REAL name. Keeps..." "You from getting to attached. Got it." She shook my hand. "Miami. What you got in that bag of yours." "Food, water, hygiene products..., guns, ammo," "You got ammo for a MAG – 7 M1?" I looked in my bag and found the ammo she needed, then threw it to her. "Thanks Philly." She loaded her gun.

We sat and we chatted for a little. We talked about our Zombieland journeys, and various Zombie kills. "So I was walking to my apartment, in the south side of Miami. I was coming home from a Miami Heat game, I shit you not, there was a zombie in my damn bathtub. So, I instinctively ran from the bastard, and he chases me. I had a basketball that I got signed by Lebron James in my duffle bag, and I just started bashing his skull in with it. Deserving on Zombie Kill of the Week." She smiled at her victory over the Zombie. I had better. "You think THAT was good. How about this. I had a Baretta in hand, and I was ready for anything, but two zombies were chasing me, and they were gaining yards. My gun jammed. The one who was really gaining was a girl in booty shorts, with acrylics. I finally got out a bullet, but it only shot off her arm. Then I shot her in the face. The other zombie was a guy, and he lunged at me. I grabbed the girls dissembled arm, and thrust it through his chest, thanks to the acrylics. Now THAT is Zombie Kill of the Week." Turns out we were both wrong. Zombie Kill of the Week goes to 12 year old Rebecca Small, who beat a zombie to it's demise, with a My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic: Walkin' Talkin' Pinkie Pie.

She looked at me. "You know, we should stick together. I could use a cute guy that's quick with a gun to help." I blushed. "But I can't find one of those, so you will have to do." She laughed, but my mood dropped. She packed her things in a bag, and walked into the woods a little, then drove out in an all black Porsche Panamera. I started searching the car and trunk, then under the hood. Rule #21: Thoroughly Search You Ride. Zombies can come out of anywhere at anytime. "Looking for something?" She asked. "No, just...checking the safety of your vehicle..." I put my stuff in the back seat, and got in shot gun. I looked at her. She looked beautiful. Long black hair... Caramel colored skin... Hazel eyes... Perfect figure... Sweet god... "Ready, Philly Cheese Steak?" I'm guessing she was making a joke of my residence. "Always, MTV Spring Break." She drove off into the sunrise.

Lemme see, today was an accomplishment. Instead of solo, I'm with a cool, gorgeous woman, who knows how to take out a Zombie. I think I can see a family with this girl... Beautiful wedding, dozens of little babies... Wait, getting ahead of myself... Rule #6: Don't Get Too Attached. I can't get too close to her, and then when she, or I die, shit is all teary. No. I am not going through that, nor am I putting someone through that... Well, we have a big day ahead of us. Let us hope to got that things go well with this new partner. Until next time, this is Philadelphia Pennsylvania, good night, and good luck.


End file.
